


Straight Lines and Sharp Angles

by nicky_writes



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Reader-Insert, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, there might be a part 2 at some point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:21:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicky_writes/pseuds/nicky_writes
Summary: After finding out that Tony Stark is your soulmate, you spend the next several years avoiding the wild, cocky playboy. But when he shows up on your doorstep one day asking for you to give him a chance, you start to reassess your assumptions about the man with your matching soulmark.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Reader
Comments: 60
Kudos: 434





	Straight Lines and Sharp Angles

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! So this is the first non-smutty thing I've written in a while. I fully intended for this to be a dark!Tony fic, but whoops, turns out I'm hella soft for this man.   
> So I hope you enjoy this! I still don't know if I'll be adding a second part, so if you're interested in one, please let me know.   
> And, as always, enjoy!

Tony Stark – it was a household name, one that everybody had heard of, no matter what country they lived in, what language they spoke. Nearly every person in the world had heard of the famous billionaire, and you’d grown up hearing his name on the news.

Up until the day you were 16, he was just another celebrity, albeit one that you looked down upon. Nearly every month, he was in the papers for doing something reckless and stupid, but at least it made for good entertainment. However, that all changed after one of his more drunken interviews on Access Hollywood.

When your mother had called you into the living room that day to watch it, you’d been confused by the shocked, almost horrified look on her face.

“Mom, what is it?” you’d asked, furrowing your eyebrows. “He didn’t blow up a country, did he?”

“I… No,” she’d said carefully.

“Screwed the first lady?”

“No. But-“

“Skinny dipped in a public fountain again?”

“Honey, just… Just watch.”

Picking up the remote, she’d gestured for you to sit down beside her before pressing play. Perplexed, you’d dropped down onto the sofa, watching as the famous philanthropist swayed drunkenly on his feet.

“Mr. Stark,” the reporter started, “Is it true that you broke a world record for the amount donated to UNICEF in one year?”

“Oh, please,” he slurred in response. “The point in giving to charity is to do it out of the, the goodness of your heart. So I will by _no_ means confirm the fact that you just stated. It just wouldn’t be, be _ethical_ to mention the literal _billions_ myself and my company have given to charity in the past couple o’ years.”

The reporter had smiled at that, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath.

“So are you out celebrating tonight, then, Mr. Stark?” the reporter carried on.

“Oh, yeah; Playboy called and said their models are eternally grateful for my contributions to humanity.” He winked at young man beside him, who only grinned and nodded. “So I’m headed over to the mansion to let them thank me in person, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea.”

“Mom, this guy is a complete douchebag,” you said, “but I don’t see why you wanted me to-“

“Shh! Just watch.”

With a sigh, you did as she said, watching as Tony seemed to sober up a bit, looking into the camera.

“Sorry - I’ve been told it’s not good for business to talk about banging supermodels. Plus, I mean. I can only imagine how pissed my soulmate is by now.”

For a minute, the reporter froze, his eyes darting to the cameramen in surprise before turning back to the billionaire.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, but I wasn’t aware that you had a soulmate.”

“Oh, yeah,” the young man laughed. “Shit, my bad. I’m not supposed to talk about that on tv. Fuck, Obadiah is gonna kill me-“

“Are you and your soulmate together, Mr. Stark?”

“What? No. Fuck, you think I’d be out right now if I had a hot piece of ass waiting for me at home?” He stumbled on his own feet for a second, and he reached out to stabilize himself on one of the cameramen. “Shit- Nah, I haven’t even met her yet. At least. I mean, I _think_ it’s a she. Might be a he, who knows? But, I dunno, I just have a feeling that they’ll have tits.”

All of a sudden, Tony looked as if he’d just come up with a brilliant idea, and before anyone could say anything to stop him, he was reaching down and pulling his t-shirt off, flinging it somewhere behind him. And, all of a sudden, you realized why your mother had made you watch this debacle of an interview.

Tony Stark had a soulmark that sprawled from his left shoulder down to his right hip, and it was made up of a geometric pattern. The mark contained crisp lines and sharp angles, all coming together in unique shapes that stretched across his torso. Your mouth went dry, and you felt the blood drain from your face as you stared at it and the man who it belonged to as he pointed at the camera.

“If you’re out there,” he started, but a hiccup shook his entire frame before he could continue. Blinking his eyes a few times, he shook his head and tried again.

“If you’re out there, and you have my matching mark, please, just… _please_ contact me. Send me a letter, shoot me an email, fuckin send a carrier pigeon – just let me know you’re alive, at least.”

From there, he made to say something else, but he suddenly looked as if he was going to be sick. His face took on a greenish tinge, and he covered his mouth and turned away from the camera, stumbling away by a few feet. Your mom paused the tv at the first sound of his retching, and for a long moment, you just sat there in silence, feeling the weight of what had just happened settle over your shoulders.

Your eyes trailed down to your thigh, to the geometric soulmark that had been painted across it since you’d been born. You’d always liked to think about who your soulmate was, what they would be like and how the two of you would meet. But never, in all of your years of fantasizing, had you ever imagined you would be bonded to a celebrity. Much less an arrogant, loud-mouthed, entitled playboy.

“…Sweetheart, I… I’m so sorry. He had no right to speak about you that way-“

A bark of laughter escaped your mouth, and you looked to your mom incredulously.

“He has no right to do any of the shit he does,” you fired back, and your mom didn’t even try to correct you on your language.

You’d stood up, pacing the length of your living room, feeling a cold dread start to settle in your stomach.

“…He’s not my soulmate,” you eventually declared, eliciting a sharp exhalation from your mother.

“Sweetie, his mark looked just like yours-“

“Well, I don’t care,” you interrupted her. “He doesn’t get to be my soulmate. And not just because he talked about my _tits_ on national television. It’s because he makes his billions off the suffering of others. He _manufactures weapons_ , for God’s sake. And he thinks that a few donations to UNICEF is gonna make up for it?

“I would rather _die_ than be with Tony Stark.”

_____________

Years passed after that fateful day when you were sixteen, and you went to painstaking lengths to make sure Tony Stark remained unaware of your existence. Even after he hung up his weapons development and turned into the beloved, lauded Iron Man, you couldn’t find it within yourself to reach out to him. In your mind, he would always be the same spoiled, drunken brat you’d watch humiliate you on Access Hollywood.

Ever since then, you only ever wore pants that covered your whole leg, even in the summertime. You didn’t have any social media profiles, and if anyone asked if you had a soulmate, you would lie and say you were one of the many who’d been born without a mark. Even when you moved to Massachusetts to start college at Harvard, you did your best to stay out of the limelight, instead choosing to throw yourself into your studies. And despite the temptation, you avoided all news that pertained to Tony Stark.

But, despite all of that, you still had a social life. You had a good, tight-knit group of friends, and you were mostly happy with where you were at. You were in your second year of college, and you were living on your own in a tiny, matchbox apartment just three minutes from campus. And you had grown comfortable with what you had.

Too comfortable.

Because one day, when your good friend Jade asked you for the millionth time to hang out at her parent’s pool with her, you’d said yes. She’d worn you down with promises that it would only be you, her, and a few of your mutual friends, and you’d reasoned that it wouldn’t hurt if the people who were closest to you knew about your soulmark.

And, sure enough, the pool day came and went without incident. You went, you swam, you dodged any questions they had about your mark, and you quickly forgot about the entire day within a week of it happening.

But on the seventh day after the pool, you heard a knock at your door.

_____________

“Coming!”

You put down your textbook and rubbed your eyes, glancing at your phone. It was 6:45 in the evening, and you’d once again gotten carried away with your homework. With a sigh, you stood up from your bed and stretched your arms above your head, listening to your joints pop with the movement.

Once again, a firm knock came to your door, and you let your arms drop to your side with a huff.

“I said I’m coming!” you called out, crossing the small living space.

Unlocking the door, you went to pull it open, but it barely moved an inch as you tugged at it. It wasn’t the first time that had happened; in fact, every day you told yourself that you would get one of your friend’s dads to come help you fix the door jam, but over a year had gone by without you doing anything of the sort.

With a grunt, you pulled on the doorknob with all your might until, finally, it popped open. You huffed, pushing some hair out of your face as you straightened up.

“Sorry about that. It sticks someti-“

Your words died on your tongue when you saw who was standing before you. You blinked, wondering if you were dreaming as you stared blankly at Tony Stark, who was looking between you and the door with arched eyebrows.

“…Candy gram?”

You huffed, looking down to the large bouquet of red roses he held in his hands. His hair was slicked back, and he was sporting his usual impeccably-sculpted facial hair. Plus, you knew next to nothing about men’s fashion, but even _you_ could tell that his charcoal-gray suit had to have cost him thousands of dollars, if not tens of thousands.

“Um… Hi,” you greeted, shifting on your feet. “Can I help you, Mr. Stark?”

Once more, his eyebrows twitched, and he took a step forward.

“You know… For most of my life, I’ve been preparing a little monologue for whenever I finally got to meet you, but for the life of me I can’t remember a single word of it,” he admitted, a ghost of a smile spreading across his lips.

You nodded your head, still unimpressed.

“Does any of it include how you found me?”

The smile faltered on his face, and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

“I have my A.I. routinely check the internet for any image matches to my soulmark,” he explained. “Your picture popped up this morning, so I flew over from Malibu and-“

“Wait, my picture? I don’t have any pictures of myself up on the internet. Not any that have my soulmark in them, at least.”

Tony furrowed his eyebrows and made to reach into his jacket pocket, trying to juggle the large bundle of flowers for a second before giving up.

“Uh… Here, hold these for me,” he said, all but shoving the roses into your arms. You scrambled to accept them, immediately getting hit by a wave of their scent as you watched him pull out his phone.

After unlocking it, he turned it around to face you, showing you his home screen background. Your eyes widened as you looked at the picture of yourself in your swimsuit, smiling at something off camera with your soulmark in plain view. You hadn’t even remembered seeing anyone take your picture, but there was no denying that it was from Jade’s pool party.

“I… I didn’t post that,” you stammered. “How did you-“

“Someone named Jazzi put it on her FaceBook,” he explained, shoving the device back into his pocket. “Friend of yours, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah…” You trailed off, frowning. “But, wait, you set it as your phone background?”

He didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish.

“Well, yeah. I mean, my soulmate turned out to be a smoking hot college girl. Why _wouldn’t_ I have you as my screensaver?”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you shook your head, not knowing what to say; your world had suddenly been tilted on its axis, and your brain couldn’t keep up with it.

“So,” he continued on, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “I thought that we could have some dinner together tonight. You know, wine, dine, get to know one another. From there, I can have your things moved to my place – you’re gonna love Malibu. It’s _so_ much nicer than Massachusetts – summer, all year long. Beaches, palm trees-“

“Wait, wait, wait,” you said, holding a hand up. “Just… Pause for a second. Pause. You want me to move in with you?”

“Well… Yeah. I’m on the wrong side of 40, hon – I’ve waited long enough, I think. Now, I’m starving. Do you like Italian? I know a place close by-“

“Tony!” you interrupted.

He stopped in his tracks, his mouth still open as you shook your head.

“I’m not… I’m not going to move in with you,” you told him incredulously. “I can’t just put my life on hold at the drop of a dime. I have my own home; I’m in _college_. I’m not going to leave that behind just because you showed up at my doorstep saying you want to make up for lost time.”

Tony sighed, sliding his hands into his pockets as he chewed on his bottom lip for a second, thinking over what you’d just said.

“…I get that,” he finally conceded. “I guess that _would_ be a little too fast. …Alright, well, I can buy a place up here, I guess. We can live there until after you’re finished up with university-“

“Ok, you’re…clearly still not getting this. Tony, has it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, there’s a _reason_ why you haven’t found me until now?”

At that, he was left speechless, and for a second you wondered how many times in his life someone had managed to leave him without anything to say. You could practically see the gears turning in his mind as he tried to fathom the idea, and you used his silence as an opportunity to speak your mind.

“Listen, I get that you’re a big deal. I mean, you have your own action figure for crying out loud. But I’m perfectly content with where I’m at right now. I don’t need a reckless, arrogant billionaire showing up in my life thinking he owns me just because we happen to have the same pattern on our skin.

“Now, if you want to get to know me, I guess I can live with that. And _maybe_ something will one day come of it. But if I do ever move in with you, that’s gonna be years from now. And any kind of relationship we do go into is going to have to move slower than what you’re clearly expecting.”

As you spoke, you could see Tony’s face start to grow more and more somber, and there was an edge to his stare that made goosebumps spring up over your arms. His hands were balled up into fists in his pockets, and once you were done speaking, he ran his tongue over his teeth as he considered his next words.

“…You don’t know a thing about me,” he started off. “Reckless? Yeah. Arrogant? Maybe on a bad day. But there’s a whole different side to me that you would be able to know if you just gave me a chance. Do you know how much it’s hurt? To watch the years tick by, knowing you have someone out there that the universe hand-picked for you, but still not able to do anything about it except sit and wait with your thumbs up your ass until something turns up?”

“Not as much as it hurt me to hear you objectify and humiliate me on television when I was _sixteen_ years old,” you fired back. “And, yeah, my heart bleeds for you. However hard it was for you to wait for me, I’m sure the women, booze, and drugs did more than enough to numb the pain. I’ve been meaning to ask you, how _did_ that evening at the Playboy mansion go, hm?”

“…I had no way of knowing you were only sixteen,” he tried to defend himself. “And that was _one_ time; it was a drunken mistake, and I don’t even drink like that anymore. And, for the record, I haven’t touched drugs in _years_ ; I’ve gotten better-“

“And yet you show up here, thinking a bouquet of flowers and a fancy dinner will be enough to get me to move in with you? Even if you’ve gotten better, I can’t just look past that arrogance, Tony. If you want me in your life, you’re gonna have to prove it.”

With that, you turned on your heel and walked back into your apartment, slamming the door shut behind you. The last thing you saw before it closed was the look of hurt on Tony’s face as he watched you walk away, and you waited by the door until you heard the click of his footsteps as he walked away. As soon as you were sure he was gone, you felt the dam inside of you burst, and tears started leaking down your cheeks as you lowered yourself into one of your dining room chairs.

You sat there for a while, crying and clutching the flowers, watching as your tears dripped down onto their blood red petals. Because even though you’d been avoiding Tony for your entire adult life, and despite the fact that you’d meant every word you’d said about his arrogance, you still couldn’t deny that there had been a small, treacherous part of you that had wanted to go with him to dinner. That was the part of you that whispered to you, saying that he was still your soulmate, that there had to be a reason why he was your chosen one, even if you couldn’t see it.

But, as you dried your tears and stood up to find a vase for your roses, you snuffed that voice out. Whether or not Tony would get his chance with you was now completely up to him. If he was willing to show you that he would be able to put away his pride and work with you towards the relationship he wanted so desperately, then you would give him a chance.

But miles away, soaring through the air, Tony was developing his own plan. He’d spent enough time waiting. And now that he’d found you, he was gonna make damn sure that you didn’t slip away from him again.

_____________

You’d worked at the campus coffee shop as a barista for about a year, now, and you’d grown to enjoy it. It wasn’t your favorite among the three jobs you kept to afford rent and student loan payments, but it definitely wasn’t the worst. You’d gotten to know your regular customers, and your coworkers were generally cool people, easy to get along with. You were used to the little routine you had at the café, and that was why it was so jarring when, in the middle of your shift, a UPS delivery man walked in with a large package, claiming it was for you.

“I… I didn’t order anything,” you’d tried to tell him. “And even if I had, I wouldn’t have given my work address.”

“Look,” he’d sighed, “your name is on the package, and I had very specific instructions not to leave until you’ve accepted it. Can you please just sign for it?”

With an annoyed huff, you’d done as he asked, taking your 15 minute break to open it in the back room. Your coworkers had all watched the scene with piqued interest, but you’d shrugged them off when they asked any questions.

Cutting through the tape and cardboard, you sliced across the top seam of the box and opened it…only to find three more boxes. Shoe boxes, to be specific. One was labelled from Miu Miu, one read Christian Louboutin, and the third was from Louis Vuitton. You gulped, opening them each up to find the most stunning pairs of high heels you’d ever seen.

You jumped when you heard a gasp sound from behind you, and you turned to see your coworker Anna staring over your shoulder.

“Oh. My. God! Those shoes are to DIE for,” she squealed. “Ohmygosh, can I hold them?”

Arching an eyebrow, you handed her one of the Miu Miu heels, which were encrusted in glittering gemstones that you were sure _couldn’t_ be actual diamonds. No one would be able to bring themselves to wear diamonds on their feet, right?

“Holy fuck, I think these are real diamonds!”

Well, shit.

“How in the flying fuck did you manage to afford these?” Anna demanded, handing the shoe back to you reluctantly. “Did you get yourself a sugar daddy?”

“No,” you immediately answered her. “No. This is just… It’s a long story. But I’ll tell you one thing – I will _not_ be keeping them.”

“What? Girl, are you crazy? …If you’re going to get rid of them, could I have maybe just one-“

“I’m giving them back to the asshat that sent them here in the first place, Anna,” you informed her. “I’m 99% sure I know exactly who it is, and if he thinks he can buy me, then he’s got another thing coming.”

There hadn’t been a return address on the package, and so at the end of your shift and before your American History class, you dropped it off at your apartment and told yourself you’d get them back to Tony later, not even thinking to wonder how in the world Tony had been able to guess your shoe size perfectly.

The next day, though, while you were working your shift at the campus bookshop, yet another package had come for you. This time, it was a Chanel purse with a note attached to it that simply said, ‘ _I’m sorry_.’ You’d simply snorted and thrown it into the box with your unwanted shoes that night when you got home, only mildly concerned that Tony had found out A) where you worked, and B) your work schedule. But, you reasoned, if he’d been able to find out where you lived, it wasn’t that surprising that he knew the rest of it, what with the resources he had at his disposal. 

The third gift, though, went above and beyond the others, and it crossed a line that you hadn’t even thought _Tony Stark_ would cross.

That night, you’d come home from your day of classes, feeling relieved that no other delivery men had tracked you down to give you an insanely expensive package. You’d changed into your pajamas and snuggled into bed, ready to watch some Netflix and get a head start on homework.

And, of course, that was when you heard the doorbell.

With a sigh, you’d stood up and marched over to the door, ready to tell Tony that it was too late for him to bother you and prepared to force him to take back all of his gifts. But, instead of your soulmate, a delivery woman was standing at the door, holding a package in one hand while a crate rested at her feet.

“Are you (Y/N)?”

With a sigh, you nodded your head and signed for the gifts, not even wanting to fathom a guess at what Tony had in store for you this time. After accepting the crate in her hands and setting it down on your couch, you watched in surprise as she picked up the crate, cooing to whatever was inside of it before holding it out to you.

“I hope he’s able to find a good home with you,” she said, smiling, and your heart clenched when you heard a soft whimper come from inside.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you said, shaking your head. “Please tell me there isn’t a living organism inside that box. Please, tell me he didn’t-“

You were cut off by a sharp, high pitched bark, and you backed up a step.

“I can’t accept this,” you told the woman, and you watched as she pursed her lips.

“Well, whether you want it or not, there’s a dog in here for you. And I was told that, if you didn’t take it, it’s going to the nearest pound.”

“I…”

You trailed off, watching as a small, wet nose poked out of one of the thin slots in the crate. You didn’t have a dog, nor did you _want_ a dog at the current point in time – you could barely afford to feed _yourself_ , much less a pet.

But you weren’t heartless, and you couldn’t bare to send an innocent animal to a pound that, for all you knew, could be a kill-shelter. And so, with a heavy feeling in your gut, you took the crate and closed the door behind the delivery woman, setting it on the ground and kneeling down to open it.

Inside was the most beautiful puppy you’d ever seen. It was a Samoyed, and its fluffy, pure-white fur offset its big, black eyes and its dark, button nose. It squirmed in your hands as you lifted it from the crate, and your heart all but melted when, after you sat it down, it climbed into your lap and rose up on its back legs to put its paws on your chest.

“Well, hey there, little guy,” you murmured, reaching down to the collar on its neck. It had a circular pendant hanging from it. On one side, there was a phone number listed, one that you didn’t recognize, and on its other side there was a name printed on its gleaming silver surface.

“…Ozzy, huh? Nice to meet you, Ozzy. I’m so sorry that you’re just a pawn in a rich man’s game to win my heart, but…at least you’re cute.”

Ozzy panted as he looked up at you, and you found yourself scratching behind his ears as your eyes fell onto the other package that had come with your new household member. You leaned over and pulled it to you, peeling off the tape as Ozzy waged war against one of your slippers.

Inside of the box, there were all the supplies one would ever need to take care of a dog. There was a black harness that came with two matching leashes, and further down you found two marble bowls for food and water. There were also more toys for Ozzy than you’d ever owned cumulatively during your childhood, and beneath it all there was a small, embroidered dog bed that had “Ozzy Stark” embroidered on it in gold thread. You huffed at the last name, wondering if it would be too petty to use a pair of scissors to remove ‘Stark’ from it, but you reasoned that you wouldn’t resort to that just yet. After all, you didn’t even know if you would be keeping little Ozzy.

That night, you took Ozzy outside to walk around for a little bit, and after he did his business, you went back in to set up his supplies. Luckily, Tony had included puppy food in his doggy care package, and so you served up a bowl of it for Ozzy to chow down on. From there, you put off your homework and played with him, watching his antics with a smile on your face; he really _was_ adorable.

Despite the fact that his bed had probably cost more than yours, Ozzy slept curled up against your side all night, and you had to admit that you slept sounder than usual with him tucked against your hip. And when you woke up to him laying sprawled out against your stomach, you couldn’t hold back the happy grin that had come over your features. Luckily, it was your one day off during the week, and so you were able to sleep in, watching the little puppy slowly wake up.

As he lifted his fluffy white head up and yawned, your eyes caught on the tag hanging from his collar. More specifically, the phone number printed on the back of it. You chewed on your lip, weighing the pros and cons of giving Tony a call, but you reasoned that it was your only day off during the week – if you were going to return all of his pointless gifts, then it would have to be today.

And so, after taking Ozzy outside for a short walk, you took a seat on your bed and pulled him into your lap, dialing the number and waiting with bated breath as the phone rang.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Tony said, having picked up right after the third ring. “How’s our son doing?”

“He’s not…” You huffed, letting yourself fall back against your pillows. “Tony, c’mon. You can’t just _get me a dog_.”

“Why? You allergic? ‘Cuz Samoyeds are actually hypoall-“

“Tony, you _know_ why! This isn’t a pair of shoes or a purse – which I’m fully planning on giving back to you, by the way. This is a living being! I’m too busy to take care of a dog. And he’s going to grow up to be big; he’ll need more space than I can give him.”

“I know. I’ve thought about all of that,” your soulmate assured you. “And I have a proposition for you.”

“Tony, I’m not going to move in with you-“

“So you’ve said. Look, just… Can I come over? I’d kinda like to be able to see your face again. It’s a nice one.”

“I…”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“You’re the most difficult human being on the planet.”

“Aw, love you too sweetie. I’ll be over in five.”

With that, he hung up, leaving you just barely enough time to get dressed. You threw off your pajamas and pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt before frantically arranging your hair into something mildly presentable. You studied yourself in the mirror even though you told yourself that you didn’t care about what Tony thought about your appearance and straightened up as much as you could, throwing dirty clothes from your floor into your hamper and washing as many dishes as you could before a knock sounded from your door. Your heartrate jumped when you heard the tap-tap-ta-tap-tap, and you hurriedly dried your hands off before walking over to let him in.

Once again, the door jammed as you tried to pull it open, but with a bit of finagling you managed to pry it away from the frame. There Tony stood on its other side, holding a box of donuts and wearing, this time, a burgundy button-up with a black tie.

“I brought breakfast,” he announced. “But you have to let me in to have one.”

You rolled your eyes but, wordlessly, stepped aside, closing the door behind him as he took a seat on your old, threadbare sofa. You crossed your arms as he turned his head, taking in the small studio, his eyes lingering on the chipped paint on the walls and the water stains on the ceiling.

“…Well, this certainly is an apartment,” he deadpanned.

You were about to say something snarky back, but Ozzy chose that moment to jump into Tony’s lap, prompting a wide grin to spread over the man’s face.

“Well hey, there, buddy,” he cooed, scratching behind his ears. “You been wearing her down for me?”

“No,” you answered for the dog, taking a seat on the opposite end of the sofa as your soulmate. “I know I shouldn’t be surprised that you bought me an entire-ass dog, but I am.”

“What can I say? Chicks dig puppies.”

You let out a sigh, shaking your head as you reached for the donuts; you _were_ hungry, after all.

“I can’t keep him, Tony,” you reminded him. “I mean, he’s really sweet, but it just wouldn’t be responsible for me to have a dog right now.”

“Oh, I agree,” he replied, arching his eyebrows. “At least, not when you’re living here. With not one, not two, but _three_ jobs. Fuck, how you’re not exhausted 24/7 is beyond me.”

“I _am_ exhausted, Tony,” you sighed. “All the time. But some people weren’t born rich geniuses.”

“But some people _are_ born as their soulmates,” he pointed out. “And you haven’t heard my latest offer yet.”

“A relationship isn’t a transaction, Tony-“

“I will buy you a house,” he spoke, stopping you dead in your tracks. “One that’s not too far from your campus. And I’ll give you a weekly allowance so you don’t have to work so much; all you’ll have to focus on is your classes, Ozzy here, and yours truly. And before you say anything, I won’t be living with you in this deal. I mean, I’m totally going to buy some property really _close_ to you so I don’t have to fly up from Florida a couple times each week, but you’ll have your own space.”

You gulped, turning his words over in your mind; if this were anyone else, you’d tell them that they’d have to be a fool not to accept this offer. And Tony had clearly thought a lot about this a lot.

“Oh, I do have some conditions, though,” he added, as if it were an afterthought.

“…Ok. What are they?” you asked warily.

“I wanna see you at least two times during the week,” he started. “And I want to be able to spend at least one day out of the weekend with you – Saturday or Sunday, take your pick. And one other thing.”

At that, he leaned forward, scooting closer to you on the couch, and you noticed that his face had gone stone-cold. There was no joking whatsoever in his eyes, and there was no hint of a smile on his features. Your own eyes widened; you’d never seen him look like this, not even during his famous ‘I am Iron Man’ press conference.

“I want you to give me an honest chance,” he said solemnly. “I know I’ve done some stupid shit in the past, but I meant it when I said that you don’t know me. Not yet, at least. So no more of this ‘arrogant billionaire’ bullshit – I’m asking for a clean slate in return for a full-ride through the rest of your college career. And a shot to make it work with the person you’re destined to be with.”

You bit your lip, looking away as you processed everything that he’d said. If you said no, you knew, without a doubt, that you’d spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you’d said yes. You would still have your pride, sure, but you would also have a student debt that you’d never even be able to _dream_ about paying off. And the sentimental, optimistic side of you whispered that you would lose your chance of getting to know the person behind the mask Tony wore, the person who shared a destiny with you.

“…Deal.”

Relief settled over Tony’s features, and he closed his eyes as his wide, joyful grin returned to his face.

“…Thank you,” he murmured, almost under his breath. When he finally did look back up at you, he leaned forward, his hand planted on the sofa cushion beneath him.

“Would a celebratory kiss be too much to ask for?”

“ _Yes_ , Tony,” you chuckled in spite of yourself. “Yes, it would be.”

“Damn.”

__________________

Moving day came only a week later. Tony had emailed you several listings that were within five minutes of Harvard’s campus, and you’d at first balked upon seeing that not one of them was below one million dollars. You couldn’t say that you were surprised; the location alone was enough to drive any property’s worth up by a considerable amount. But you’d still felt guilty as you looked them over.

“Are you sure this isn’t too much?” you’d asked him over the phone.

“Hon. I could buy all of the homes on this list and still have enough money to live comfortably for over a century. Pick whatever you want.”

You’d eventually picked one of the more modest listings, comforting yourself by forcing Tony to take back the shoes and purse he’d bought for you. From there, you’d packed up all of your belongings and posted your furniture to Craigslist; your over-zealous soulmate had already hired an interior designer for your new townhome before you’d been able to warn him not to do such a ridiculous thing.

And now, the day had finally come to move your little life from your ratty studio apartment to a three-story brownstone on the other side of campus. Truth be told, everything was moving so fast that the week had gone by in a blur. Tony had left you alone for the most part, busying himself with getting your house ready for you, and you’d put in and worked your one-week notice at your three jobs. Anna had known right off the bat that your quitting had something to do with the mystery man who’d bought you the shoes she so coveted, but she surprised you by not saying anything about it, merely telling you on your last day that she wished you luck and happiness.

Now, you were dressed in an old pair of overalls and a Rolling Stones t-shirt you’d stolen from your dad as a child, and your hair was pulled back as you lifted your boxes into the moving truck Tony had hired. He’d had a meeting that morning in New York, but he’d assured you that he’d be able to make it back in time to help you with moving them into the new place.

You’d assured him it was alright, but he’d still insisted on hiring movers. After about two minutes of watching the men carry your boxes down the stairs and into the moving van, though, you’d insisted on helping them with the work. And now, here you were, shoving your last box of books into your van as Ozzy barked from the front seat. You’d asked the movers to crack the window and blast the A/C for him, but he was still anxious from being away from your direct line of sight.

“Alright, I think that’s it,” one of the movers said. “You all set to head out, young lady?”

“Just a second! I need to leave my key under the mat for my landlord.”

“Okey doke. Well come on down to the truck when you’re ready to. We’ll keep it running for you.”

“Thanks so much!”

After dashing upstairs and leaving your key, you turned to walk back out of the old apartment building. But you paused for a moment, turning back and taking one last look at the space. So much had changed in such a short time, and you couldn’t quite believe you were leaving this behind. But despite where you were going, despite how uncertain you were of the future, you knew that you would always be proud of the person you’d worked to become while living in your tiny, broken down apartment.

Taking a deep breath, you turned around and walked out to join the movers, and you offered them small smiles as you climbed into the backseat of their truck.

From there, it was only a twenty minute drive to the other side of campus, and you watched as the buildings along the way started becoming nicer and nicer, dissolving from worm apartment buildings popular with the students to sophisticated brownstones favored by the wealthiest of the university’s professors. You couldn’t believe that you were going to be living among them, in a house with three floors and a small, fenced-off backyard.

A suspicious voice whispered to you in your head, saying that it felt too good to be true because it was, but you pushed it aside. Today, you were solely focused on the move, and you’d be damned if you let your anxiety ruin your day.

Part of your optimism faded, though, when you saw a sleek sports car parked in front of your building, with none other than your soulmate leaning against its hood, a pair of gaudy sunglasses perched on his nose as he tapped away at his StarkPhone. You fought against the urge to roll your eyes when you saw that he, too, was wearing a Rolling Stones t-shirt under his black blazer, but it was too late to change now; hopefully, your overalls would cover yours up enough for him not to notice.

After the movers parked the van, you picked Ozzy up and exited the vehicle with him tucked under your arm, squirming with excitement as Tony walked over to greet you, a wide grin parting his lips.

“What took ya so long?” he asked, eyes darting up and down your figure in a way that brought heat to your cheeks. “And one of us is gonna _have_ to change.”

Damn.

“Hello, Tony,” you sighed, finally letting Ozzy down while keeping a firm grip on his leash. “How did your meeting go?”

“Boring – painfully so. But the rest of the day looks promising.”

“What do-“

“Holy cow, is that Iron Man?”

You were interrupted when one of the movers approached you, jaw slack in disbelief as he looked between you and your soulmate. You watched as Tony’s smile dropped into something plastic and practiced, indulging the mover by striking up a conversation with him as you turned to unlock your new home’s front door. The other mover, bless him, seemed unaffected by the superhero’s presence, and so the two of you began unloading boxes as Tony took a selfie with his enthralled fan.

“Woah, hey,” he suddenly interjected, gesturing for you to put down the boxes in your arms. “These guys got that covered; I thought we could go get lunch while they finish up.”

At that, both of the movers started working in earnest, and you glanced between them and Tony, arms still full.

“I mean… I feel bad just leaving it for them,” you reasoned. “And there really isn’t a lot to move – shouldn’t take more than ten minutes. You can wait for me inside, if you want to.”

A bemused huff escaped the billionaire, and he quirked an eyebrow at you before starting to shrug out of his jacket. You watched as he threw it onto the hood of his car before brusquely taking the boxes from your hands and starting to carry them inside.

“You know, I did _hire them_ to do this so we wouldn’t have to,” he grumbled, but there was a fond gleam in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder at you on the way in.

Pleasantly surprised, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you grabbed the next box from the van, making sure to put Ozzy in the downstairs bathroom so he couldn’t escape through the open door. With the four of you working together, it only ended up taking five minutes to complete the move; you really hadn’t owned a lot of things, a fact that Tony was clearly unsettled by.

“So, is that it?” he asked once you were done, a light sheen of sweat breaking out on his brow. “ _All_ of your things? Clothes? Kitchen stuff? Books?”

“That’s it,” you confirmed, turning towards the movers as they started towards the cab of their truck. “Thank you guys, by the way. I appreciate the help.”

“No problem, miss,” the one who wasn’t Tony’s fan assured you. _He,_ on the other hand, had been making moon-eyes at your soulmate the entire time, and if you’d been more invested in your relationship with him, you might have even felt jealous.

“Oh, before I forget,” Tony suddenly startled, reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out a black leather wallet and fished out a few hundred dollar bills, causing your eyes to widen as he handed it to his still-enraptured fan. “Divvy this up between the two of you; thanks for helping my soulmate out.”

Now, their eyes widened, and even the more chill of the two men stared between you and Tony. You felt as if your cheeks were going to catch on fire as he smugly smiled and turned towards you, placing a hand on your lower back and spinning you around to steer you towards the house.

“Now, about lunch…”

___________________

The two of you ended up going to a boujee outdoor bistro for lunch, located smack dab in the center of the nearby shopping district of town, and you were already deeply regretting your decision not to change into something other than your paint-stained overalls. The menu didn’t even have prices listed, for crying out loud, and there were things like ‘herbed Israeli couscous with preserved lemon’ and ‘brunch galette with spring greens, herbs, and feta’ on it. You couldn’t even pronounce some of the items, but Tony looked right at home as he ordered a bottle of champagne for the two of you.

“Starting to drink early?” you asked, arching an eyebrow, but he’d just grinned and shrugged.

“Champagne hardly counts as drinking,” he defended himself smoothly.

As the two of you waited for your drinks, you fell into a silence that was, at least for you, supremely awkward. To distract yourself from it, you stared down at Ozzy, who was curled up at your feet with his leash looped securely around the armrest of your chair. The bistro apparently not only allowed dogs, but actively encouraged them, if the bowl of whipped cream your waiter had brought out for him earlier was any indication.

“So… How’d you like your new digs?” the man across from you suddenly asked, and you turned to find his eyes locked onto your face, his chin resting atop his fist as he rested his elbow on the table.

“It’s…nice. Still entirely too expensive,” you added, at which he playfully rolled his eyes, “but it’s nice. …Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he immediately fired back. “It was part of our deal; I’m getting something out of this, too.”

You glanced up as the waiter suddenly appeared to pour the two of you champagne, and despite your initial protests, you found yourself gulping down half of your glass as soon as it was filled. When he asked for your orders, you just blandly stated that you’d have whatever Tony was having, but your soulmate seemed immensely pleased with your words before launching into his order.

Once the waiter had retreated to the kitchen, he turned back to you, tilting his head slightly as he took in your features.

“Has your opinion about me changed at all?”

You were momentarily taken aback by such a sudden question.

“…Tony, it’s going to take more than just gifts to get me to like you the way you want me to.”

“Oh, I figured. You wouldn’t be the one for me if they were. But what will?”

You bit your lip, tracing the lip of your champagne flute with the tip of your finger.

“…You said that there’s a side of you that you don’t let people see,” you started. “Tell me about it.”

The man smiled, mischief gleaming in his eyes.

“Only if you show me yours, too.”

You nodded, and he leaned back in his chair, snatching up his flute and taking a quick sip of the bubbly booze.

“What do you wanna know about the ‘real’ me?”

“Whatever you think is important.”

He paused, considering that as his eyes flickered between you and the puppy at your feet.

“…You make me incredibly nervous,” he started, taking you off guard. “I’m used to people pandering to me at least on some level, either because of my money or fame or their sense of ‘gratitude’ for me, you know, saving the world on a few occasions. But not you. And I like that about you, I do. I hardly know you, and I already love your sass. But I’m not used to it in the _slightest_.”

Unexpected warmed bloomed in your chest, and your lips twitched up into a smile to match his as he carried on.

“I got you the gifts because that’s what I’ve always done in relationships in the past, but I was secretly glad when you gave back the shoes and the purse. …Not enough to stop buying you things, obviously, but most girls I’ve met took the presents even if they insisted they weren’t in it for the money.”

“So you _have_ tried to date other girls?” you asked, not feeling surprised or offended that he’d date people that hadn’t shared a matching soulmark with him.

“Jealous?” A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, but you only raised your eyebrow at him, prompting his smile to fall by a few centimeters.

“I wouldn’t call it dating,” he eventually sighed. “But it’s been, uh…lonely. I would swear off relationships for a year or two at a time, saying I was gonna just buckle down and wait for you, but then I would meet someone and feel that spark and think, what the hell? Might as well.

“But they, predictably, never worked out, and then I was back to waiting. And the cycle would repeat itself.”

You felt a pang of sympathy for him, seeing the earnestness of his words in the set of his shoulders and the depths of his eyes.

“…I have to admit,” you murmured, “I’ve never pictured you feeling _lonely_ before. The possibility hadn’t even come to my mind.”

He shrugged, trying to make light of something you knew weighed on him.

“Well. Now I have _you_ to bother, so I don’t expect to feel that way much longer.”

For the rest of your lunch date, the two of you made easy conversation – easier than expected. All of Tony’s comments were laced with carefully constructed humor, but you quickly realized that it was just a coping mechanism, a way of protecting himself from sounding too vulnerable when discussing matters that hit a little too close to home.

During that first deep conversation, you found out that, though his relationship with them hadn’t been perfect, Tony still missed his parents deeply, and that a lot of his actions stemmed from a place of wanting to make them proud, even in death. He was also a _genius_ , but while he was very much aware of that fact, he didn’t flaunt his knowledge nearly as much as you thought he would.

He briefly touched on the Avengers, but it was still too soon after Captain Rogers’ defection for the subject to not be painful for him, so you steered the conversation back towards lighter matters, noting the grateful look on his face after you did so.

In return, he asked you question after question about your life, proving to be a better listener than expected. He soaked up everything you had to say, learning about your family, your hobbies, your preferences. As it turned out, both of you enjoyed art, and while you didn’t consider yourself a _gifted_ artist by any means, you enjoyed listening to his opinions about different genres and classical painters.

By the time your food arrived, you were so in deep with your conversation that the waiter startled you as he arrived with two artfully arranged plates.

“Here you are,” he gushed, his voice filled to the brim with pride as he served your famous counterpart. “Creamy oven risotto with crispy roasted mushrooms and lemon-pepper chicken.”

After placing the food in front of you both, you noticed a small bowl tucked into the crook of his elbow, and you smiled as he knelt down in front of Ozzy, presenting him with it as if he were a patron at the table.

“And some frozen strawberry yoghurt for this little one,” he cooed, giving the pup a pet behind the ears before straightening up. “Can I get anything else for you three?”

“No, thank you,” you assured him, picking up your fork.

The food, predictably, was delicious, and both you and Tony were quiet as you dug into it with relish. Ozzy, too, gorged on his food, getting pink yoghurt all over his face as he dived headfirst into his bowl. The two of you laughed at his antics, and by the time you were finished with lunch, you realized that you felt…content.

Tony really was different than what you were expecting. He was still slightly full of himself, aware of his own accomplishments to a fault, but he was also considerate of yours. You’d always pictured him as the type to talk over others while flaunting his superior intellect, but he was more down-to-earth than you’d ever hoped he’d be. After the two of you finished and the check was paid (all of your offers to help cover it had been met with eye rolls and pseudo-glares), you didn’t even hesitate to take him up on his offer to stroll through a nearby park before heading home and starting to unpack.

The weather was bright and sunny as the two of you watched Ozzy run down the sidewalk, his tail wagging so fast that it was just a little white blur as he sniffed at everything that crossed his path, and you walked and talked until Tony got a call at 4 o’clock. F.R.I.D.A.Y., his AI that, as he put it, ‘ran his life’, had informed him that it was from someone named Happy, and he’d apologized before stepping to the side to answer it.

As you took a seat on a nearby bench and watched him talk, you felt your own phone start buzzing, and you pulled it out of your pocket to find that it was your mother calling.

“Hi, Mom,” you said as you accepted the call.

“How did moving go?”

Your mother, when you’d first told her about your deal with your soulmate, had been apprehensive, to say the least. She’d never forgiven Tony for the way he’d unwittingly spoken about her daughter, and she’d made it clear that, while she would support your decisions, she didn’t trust your soulmate as far as she could throw him.

“It went well,” you assured her. “He actually carried boxes.”

“I know,” she sighed, and you could all but picture her rubbing her forehead in exasperation. “There are already pictures of the two of you floating around on the internet.”

You bit your lip, unconsciously darting your eyes around the park if you could see anybody sneaking pictures. It was mostly empty, though, with the only person in your range of vision being Tony, but you were still nervous about what you would see when you searched for yourself on Google later that evening.

“He’s…been really nice,” you admitted lamely. “Today has been really good, so far. He took me and Ozzy out to lunch-“

“I still can’t believe he mailed you a dog.”

“…And now we’re walking around a little park close to campus.”

“Has he said anything rude to you?”

“No, mom. I promise. If he does, I’ll slap him just like you said to.”

“Kick him in the balls for me while you’re at it.”

You huffed out a laugh, perking up when Tony hung up his phone and started making his way over to you.

“I have to go,” you told your mom. “But I’ll call you as soon as I get home.”

“You’d better.”

“I will! Love you.”

You hung up after she echoed your last two words back to you, and you watched as Tony lifted one sculpted eyebrow, glancing pointedly at your phone.

“Should I be jealous of someone?”

“Not unless you see my mom as competition.”

A relieved smile came over his features, and he held out his hand to help you up off of the bench. You didn’t comment when he kept it in his as he walked you back towards the entrance of the park, but you did let go when a couple of joggers did a double take while passing you on the trail. For a second, you thought you saw disappointment flash over his features, but he made no comment as the two of you made your way back to his car.

“So, what did your mom have to say?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“…Well, she started by asking how moving went,” you began, wondering if you should tell him about her distrust. “I told her you were very helpful.”

The corner of his lips quirked up at that, and he shot you a glance from the corner of his eyes.

“She’s not a fan of me, huh?”

You were puzzled by his deduction, and it must have shown on your face.

“I figured. I wouldn’t be a fan of me, either, if I were in her shoes.”

“I find it hard to think of you as being anything _but_ a fan of yourself.”

A hiss of laughter escaped from behind his teeth, but his expression was surprisingly devoid of a smile.

“Your soulmate ended up being a self-righteous playboy who’s nearly 20 years your senior,” he deadpanned. “Not really the type of person you bring home for Thanksgiving.”

“…If it makes you feel any better, I’m probably going to end up hosting my family’s Thanksgiving this year. And I’ll invite you.”

At that, he _did_ smile, and a part of you was relieved to see it.

“It does, actually. Thanks.”

The rest of your walk was done in silence, with both of you watching as Ozzy became less excited and more sleepy with every step. At his first yawn, you bent down and scooped him up into your arms, and by the time you’d arrived back to Tony’s Lamborghini, he was fast asleep with his nose tucked against your chest. The sight was enough to make your heart melt, and you jolted when your soulmate reached over to rub his upturned belly, his fingers just barely grazing against your breast as he did so. Even though you knew it was unintentional, your cheeks were once again enflamed as he opened your car door for you.

The two of you only spoke next when you were stood on your doorstep, whereupon Tony hesitated as he stared up at you from his place at the bottom of your steps. Neither of you knew how to say goodbye, and neither of you knew whether or not you should address the instant connection you’d made over lunch. You didn’t regret giving him a chance, and while you were still apprehensive of the man you’d been avoiding for the past several years of your life, you couldn’t help but wonder, almost hopefully, if he’d kiss you goodbye.

“…I had a good time today,” you started, clutching your puppy even closer. “Thank you for lunch. And, um…the house.”

The both of you chuckled at that, and Tony kicked his heel, digging it into the concrete beneath him with something resembling bashfulness; the sight was endearing, as was his honest smile.

“Thanks for giving me a chance,” he replied. “It’s…probably more than I deserve.”

Your heart squeezed at that, and after a moment of deliberation, he determinedly rose up onto the second step of your small porch and leaned closer, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. It was over in a moment, barely as long as a heartbeat, but his lips were soft and warm against your flesh, and you’d been able to smell his warm, spicy aftershave as he leaned close.

“Call me,” was all he said before turning around and climbing into his car, leaving you with a fluttering heart as you walked into your house and closed the door behind you.

Something had blossomed somewhere behind your ribcage, and it took you a second to identify it as your thoughts swam and spun around Tony. It was hope, you realized, and a small smile spread over your lips.

It was hope, and it was beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you'd like, follow my tumblr @nikki-writes-stuff. Comments are always appreciated, so please let me know if you enjoyed it and if you'd be interested in a part 2! 
> 
> Thanks, again!!!


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